


Endure

by LadyAnneNeville



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Supportive Pepper Potts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAnneNeville/pseuds/LadyAnneNeville
Summary: Tony's perspective after loosing someone close to him. A study on grief.





	Endure

They asked me if I wanted to see it.

They asked me if I wanted to see it.

I remember that. Those words specifically. They asked me if I wanted to see it. Not him, it.

He was a person, not a body, not a shell, a person. And mere hours afterwards they asked me if I wanted to see it. As though his humanity was not even a memory.

I didn’t, I knew I didn’t. I had watched it happen, watched the colour drain from his face as I arrived too late to stop it, I held him as he bled out. I comforted him as he choked out his fear to me.

He was so young, so very young. Not just in age, his brilliance and ability and intelligence so often tempered his childish enthusiasm. His sense of responsibility: he was so, so good. But in that moment he was so young, those small arms that could catch a moving truck trembled, fragile, clutching at his shoulders.

They asked me if I wanted to see it.

I didn’t. I went anyway. I’m not sure if I even spoke. Normally I have so many words, too many really, I use them to dazzle and impress and persuade. Then I had none. I was in shock I think. I had been so scared of this very scenario, built so many safety measures into his suit to try and keep him safe. It wasn’t enough.

I sat in the morgue for hours. I understood the words now. They had asked me if I wanted to see it. This body, this pale fragile shell that mere hours earlier had been so full of life, and enthusiasm and potential, this body was not Peter. I have little faith in life after death, but looking at the unnatural stillness of the body before me I knew there was nothing of Peter left here, nothing of the wonderful child, the amazing Spider-Man, I had hope. A small hope, but I found I needed it. For there to truly be nothing left of Peter, no soul, no essence, seemed I cruelty I didn’t think I could bear.

Pepper came to sit with me. I don’t know how long we sat there. We left when May Parker arrived, pale and angry, faint traces that she had been crying clung to her features.

The day after the funeral (small, private, far far less than Peter deserved followed by a no frills cremation) I took Pepper to Santa Barbara. Postponed her meetings on a whim and flew her across the country. I needed to do something normal, to be reminded that even without Peter I had someone worth living for. We walked along the coast, and I bought her the most expensive ice cream in town, which she ate, for once not thinking about the calories. I pulled out my cheesiest jokes and made her laugh, which she did sadly, hopefully.

Pepper loved Peter too, she didn’t know him as well as I did, but I doubt there was anyone in the world Peter couldn’t win over if he wanted too. 

If he had wanted too. Past tense.

I didn’t touch her the whole day. I couldn’t. I hadn’t touched her since it happened. She had touched me, a hand in my elbow at the funeral, silent support, taking over the condolences to May Parker when I faltered.

It was better that way, there was too much anger, too much blame, too much grief for May Parker to trust me, or accept my condolences. Pepper was better, Pepper was more neutral. Pepper hadn’t enabled her fifteen-year-old nephew in an activity that led to his death.

I couldn’t touch her. Not now, not when they were trying for a child and I had just lost the closest thing I had ever had to a son. Not when I couldn’t bear to think of spending time in my workshop with some hypothetical future human when Peter’s time had been cut so cruelly short and I would never spend time with him in my workshop again. 

I hoped Pepper didn’t notice that I didn’t touch her. Of course she did, she was too perceptive by far not to, but she didn’t push. She loved Peter, but she had never had the chance to get to know him like I had, and it isn’t really a shared grief.

One month after the funeral I walked through the doors of Stark Industries to find May Parker waiting in the Lobby.

I invited her up to my office.

She had been through Peter’s computer and found some ‘in case something happens videos’. Everyone else had seen their’s, she said, she hadn’t wanted to tell me, hadn’t been sure if I deserved to see it. She still wasn’t sure, but it was what Peter had wanted.

She asked me if I wanted to see it.

I did.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think.


End file.
